


Hidden Heritage

by artemis822



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Mummy Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 22:58:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2326181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis822/pseuds/artemis822
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As an ancient evil arrives to the Hellmouth, a certain Watcher must find the connection between his family and his new charge... a Buffy/Mummy,Mummy Returns crossover</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Package

**Author's Note:**

> I was in need of something to do during my off time in reception and basic, and I didn't have my Phoenix Slayer notebook with me. So I started writing this. And it helps answer and justify some of the things in the Whedonverse. Please take note of the switched parentage of a certain vampire with a soul, who's not a vampire here!
> 
> Please read and review! I love input, and i'm willing to accept plot ideas! Enjoy!

**Chapter 1: The Package**

Whistler was scared. Now, fear is not a new emotion in a world of humans, but for a balance demon on the side of good, other demons (and Slayers) were not beneficial to his health. But Whistler's concern was on the two vampires pursuing him. Had these been regular vampires, and were it not for the package he was carrying, he would have easily dusted them. But the package that he was carrying prevented that kind of action. His current mission was too important to the Powers That Be.

So the chase continued.

A coven in Devon had cloaked him, preventing the two vampires from tracking him and the package by scent, among other things. As he thought of his pursuers, a cold shiver went down his spine. The Scourge of Europe, Connor, and his vampire consort, Darla, had cut a swath of death and destruction across the mainland, originating from Connor's homeland of Ireland, sometimes circling back to Ireland once a century. For 220 years, he killed everyone he met, and he did it with a song in his heart. Whistler looked at the gurgling bundle and said, "You better be worth it, kid."


	2. Enter the Watcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We start to connect the dots.
> 
> Little bit longer than chapter 1.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Chapter 2: Enter the Watcher

'Man, atonement's a bloody bitch.'

Rupert Giles hated groveling, especially to a pompous asshole like Quentin Travers. Watchers this and Slayers that, he had heard it all his life, about his sacred duty as a Watcher, to guide a Slayer. Why couldn't he be the one fighting the forces of darkness? Slayers were just little girls that got handed these powers. Put these same girls, sans powers, in a normal Slayer situation, and they were dead. They should leave the demon hunting to the men.

Rupert snorted. That's why the Shadow men created the Slayer, because the men were doing such a rotten job. He knew now what a Slayer felt like; a teenager, shoved into a dark, dangerous world alone, where if they live past 18, they're considered old.

At 23, Rupert had had a late rebellion, quitting Oxford, and delving into the dark arts. His rash escapade had resulted in the death of one friends.

Which led him to his current situation. As part of his probation, he was to care for a young baby boy named Liam. The assignment itself was a little unorthodox, but it was the child's parentage that made it extraordinary; Liam was the offspring of the vampires Connor and Darla, who make up half of the Scourge of Europe. An impossible birth, was Liam, but there he lay in a basket. He had been left on the doorstep of the Watcher's Council Headquarters, with a note enclosed, explaining the child's lineage and a book of sonnets by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Travers had wanted to destroy the child upon hearing of his parentage, but Rupert's grandmother, though long retired from the Council, was still a powerful force, and had been adamant about the child's survival, and even Quentin dare not argue with Guinevere Giles.

So Rupert had been given the task of setting up Liam with a safe home, which he found laughable, given his current location. The new home for Liam was in the town of Sunnydale, which sat upon a Hellmouth, making the notion of safety laughable. But the Watcher's Council figured, that even with advancing technology, the Scourge of Europe would stay there, looking for their son.

The Council had found only one couple that wanted to adopt the baby boy that was Liam, and they happened to reside in Sunnydale, California. Rupert hadn't minded the trip as much as he thought he would. Oh, he had minded the horrendous food, the cramped seats, and the screaming small children. But none of them had been Liam. He had been quiet, the most noise he had made was when he'd been burped. He hadn't been fussy and slept normally. Compared to the other infants on the Trans-Atlantic flight, and cross-country, Liam had been a perfect angel. Even now, they baby boy was sleeping soundly as Rupert unfastened Liam from his car seat and cradled him, with the baby's head rested on his shoulder.

Rupert walked up to the residence, and knocked on the door. A man opened the door.

"Ira Rosenburg, my name is Rupert Giles. I'm from the adoption agency."

"So the parents were deemed unfit?"

Ira Rosenburg asked as his wife, Sheila, cradled Liam, who was grabbing at the ends of her hair. She said, "You know, I've noticed increasing statistics of children born to parents not mature enough or monetarily sound enough to take care of a child..." Sheila went on from there, but Rupert tuned her out, giving automatic responses. He thought of Liam, what he might inherit from his parents, slightly amused at his thoughts.

"Are we finished, Mr. Giles?" Ira brought him out of his trance.

"Yes, we are. Good luck." He handed over the bag with the baby supplies that he had been carrying, stood up and walked to the door, opened it and was about to step outside when Sheila Rosenburg's voice stopped him. "What is the baby's name?"

Rupert gave a look that said, ' _Isn't it obvious?_ ' and gave a one word response.

"Angel."

 

 


	3. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel's all growed up now.
> 
> Now things get interesting.

 

Chapter 3: The Meeting

 

' _God, I'm bored._ '

Angel Rosenburg sat in his Ancient Civilizations class, ready to fall asleep. His professor reminded him of Ben Stein, and could turn any exciting event in human history and make it sound like an infomercial.

He liked old things. There was no way around it. After 'stumbling upon' an antique sword in junior high, by 'stumbling upon', he meant found while trying to remove his latest 'girlfriend's' bra one-handed while making out in a mausoleum that was in of Sunnydale's more populated cemeteries. He had brought the sword home, after taking his girlfriend home, of course, and looked up everything he could on the sword, but was unable to find anything, save that sword belonged to some pharaoh in Egypt.

Personally he thought the term archaeologist was too stuffy, so he had adopted a name that was far more exciting: Tomb Raider, which was a pretty good game. Archaeologist made him sound like he should be in tweed, though that's probably what his parents wanted for him. He'd had a chance to go to Oxford, full scholarship, but he'd chosen UCLA, wanting to get away from his hometown of Sunnydale, but it had left him feeling guilty and alone. Since the day she was born, his little sister Willow had been his constant companion. Though they weren't blood relations, he was fiercely protective of her.

His parents had adopted him, thinking they couldn't have children, and then Willow came along. Brilliant but shy, Willow's constant companion was her brother, and also her best friend Xander Harris. Angel didn't like him, something about the kid rubbed him the wrong way, making act younger than he was.

The ringing of the bell happily pulled Angel out of his ruminations, sending him scrambling to get out of the classroom and into the hallway, where he hit rush hour. The crowd jostled him repeatedly as he fought to escape to the outside world. When he reached the sidewalk outside, he thanked whatever deity that might be listening that he didn't have anymore classes that day. As a post-grad student, his classes were in depth, but sometimes boring. At 26, most of Angel's friends were out of college, and they didn't understand Angel's fascination with ancient artifacts, and he couldn't explain himself without going into the true nature of his small hometown. Sunnydale looked like a typical small town, but in its underbelly, monsters existed, and not the imaginary monsters that parents told their children about to get them to behave. Real monsters, creatures of myth and legend. He had found it out the hard way.

He had been out with yet another girlfriend when they had been "mugged," at least that was what was in the police report. He knew the truth; the "mugger" had been a vampire, who after knocking Angel unconscious, had killed his girlfriend. When he had regained consciousness minutes later, he had found her dead, eyes wide in terror, mouth fixed open in a silent scream, and blood trickling out of two puncture holes on her neck.

A police car came by and took Angel and the body to the hospital. The doctor that had examined him had told him that he was lucky to be alive, that the blow he had received should have killed him.

From then on, he had researched everything he could about the occult and the history of Sunnydale. He had found out that there have been a lot of mysterious deaths in Sunnydale, some by "muggings."

After that, he had kept a close eye on Willow, making sure nothing happened to her. But being in L.A. was hard, knowing the amount of evil that existed in the world, and he hated not being able to protect his sister.

He was going home for Christmas Break to see Willow, because his parents weren't home as usual. He was walking out to his car, when a voice called his name. He turned around and saw a man, who was dressed like a bookie stuck in the 80s. He stood there, giving Angel an odd look, like he expected him to turn into something monstrous at any second.

Angel looked at the stranger, sizing him up. In the back of his mind, something told him something was off, but not to worry. Angel had learned to trust his instincts at the same time he had figured out he was a little different from other people. He was stronger, faster, healed quicker, has a higher intelligence, heightened senses, and an incredibly resilient immune system. After the death of his girlfriend by the vampire, he had searched and taken every self-defense class he could, and even turned to books and the Internet for more knowledge.

Angel came to the conclusion that he could probably take him, but reminded himself not to underestimate anyone. He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, and his arms crossed, and responded, "Yeah, do I know you?"

"Yes, and no."

"Right." Angel backed up a little, then turned, readying his senses for an attack.

"You could do great things, you know."

That stopped Angel in his tracks and made him turn around, giving the stranger an odd look. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're special and you know it."

"Who are you?"

"Someone who knows what your full potential is, and knows what you're destined to do."

"I think you have me confused with someone else."

Angel turned around again but was stopped by the words, "What do you know about Slayers?"

 


	4. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The strands of fate begin to tighten...
> 
> And Angel returns home...

 

Chapter 4: Homecoming

 

Angel sat in his room, brooding.

He had gone with the demon, Whistler, who had directed him to a local high school, Hemery. He had parked in the trees across the street, and Whistler had pointed out a young girl to him.

Blonde, petite, dressed fashionably, moving with a sense of regality, waving a lollipop around in her hand as if it were a scepter, further emphasizing her royal status. But Angel saw something else, too. An innocence, a naiveté that made her glow from within.

He watched as she was approached by a man, and the storm of emotions cloud her face and eyes. Confusion, fear, intrigue, denial.

He followed her the rest of the day. He saw her battle and slay her first vampire, and the truths of her future begin to weigh down on her. He saw her lying to her parents, the pain and sadness, and the beginning of her isolation from the rest of the world.

Angel then met Whistler, and told him he wanted to help her. Whistler told him a little of what her future held.

Angel ran his fingers through his hair, stood up and started pacing the room. Then his decision made, he picked up the phone and called his one confidant.

* * *

 

Willow Rosenburg hung up the phone and exclaimed loudly. Then she called out across the house, "Guess what?" A muffled response came back, voiced by her best friend Xander Harris, who was busy gorging himself on the pizza that had been delivered shortly before Willow had answered the phone. He was stationed on the couch, somewhat focused on the channel in front of him, despite the fact it wasn't in English.

Willow ran into the room that was a cross between a skip and a lope and hopped on the couch, bouncing in her exuberance to share her news. She repeated her question.

"Guess what?"

Xander turned to his best friend and said, "Ed McMann's finally forking over that big old 'Publisher's Clearing House' check I've been waiting on?"

Willow slapped his arm. "No, silly. Angel's coming home. For good"

Xander dropped his head to his chest and grimaced, making whining noises.

She smacked his arm again. "Hey, leave him alone. You know how much I've missed having him around. Especially with my parents constantly at conferences. And, no offense Xander, but there's only so many times I can argue the uses of a 'Cheeto'."

He laid his head on the back of the couch. "But they're not just a snack food, they're entertainment."

Willow gave him a look and he sighed in defeat. "Alright, I'll be civil. But if he starts in on me, Will, the gloves are coming off." Xander crossed his arms. "So when does 'His Majesty's' return?"

"In a couple days. He needs to switch his transcript over to UC Sunnydale and pack his stuff."

"Good. I've got enough time to booby trap his room. Hehe,  _booby_."

That comment earned him another smack, this time, upside his head.

* * *

 

A shriek warned Angel of the fast approaching red-headed tornado that impacted with him, knocking the wind out of him. Unable to brace in time, he was forced against the car and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. A muffled stream of babbling erupted at chest level, bringing a smile to his face. He let go of her and went to move, but she stayed firmly attached to him.

"You can let go now, Wills," Angel said. He felt his sister shake her head against his shoulder and squeeze tighter. He stroked her hair, rocking her until her grip loosened, and she finally pulled away. He stroked her cheek. "Feel better?"

She nodded and wiped away the last of her tears. She pulled back, still keeping an arm looped around her brother's waist. "Are you staying for good?"

He reached into the car and slung a bag over his shoulder. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

She gave him a dubious look. "Because when you left, you called this town evil. And you said it would take the end of the world to get you back here."

Angel laid an arm on her shoulders and started walking her back up to the house. "People change." Then he looked at the other person waiting for him on the porch. "Except for him."

Xander stood on the porch, his arms crossed. "Willow, you know how your mom is about bringing home strays."

Angel rolled his eyes, let go of Willow and brushed past Xander, bumping his shoulder. He walked into the house and went up to his room.

Willow walked up to her friend, gave him a look, and punched him in the stomach, then followed her brother. Xander turned around and called after her. "What?"

 


	5. Warning Signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First rule of Sunnydale: Shared dreams are a bad sign.
> 
> Looks like trouble's coming...

 

Chapter 5: Warning Signs

 

Angel went back and forth to L.A. under the premise of moving his possessions. In actuality, he was tracking the Slayer. When he came across the article about the destruction of the Hemery High School, he knew it wouldn't be long before she would be coming to Sunnydale.

 

* * *

 

_A vast horizon of rolling sand._

_A bald stranger in dark robes, malevolence rolling off of him in waves._

_Whispered words in ancient tongue._

_A black book with carving next to a gold book with similar carvings._

_A voice like sandpaper, speaking foreign words, but were understood._

_Bright eyes shining with madness._

_"Death is only the beginning."_

 

* * *

 

Angel woke with a jolt, gleaming with sweat, gasping for air. Confusion washed over him. 'What the hell is going on? What did those images mean?' He lay back against his pillow, and stared at his ceiling, trying to make sense of the images that had flashed through his head.

 

* * *

 

Buffy Summers sat up in bed, an acute sense of terror seizing her mind. 'No, no, no!' She mentally screamed. 'I left all that behind when I left L.A. I'm not the Slayer anymore.' She vowed to ignore her dreams, unless it involved marriage to Freddie Prinze, Jr.

'It's someone else's problem,' she resolved, determined to go back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Angel unlocked his car and threw his backpack in the back seat, feeling unsettled. He slid behind the wheel, started the car and began to drive home, the events of the past 48 hours racing through his head.

He had finally come face to face with the Slayer. Buffy Anne Summers, age 16, former cheerleader, currently savior of the world. He had followed her from her home to the local club, the Bronze. What had surprised him most about her was his immediate intense attraction and a fierce need to protect her, not the fact that she ambushed him and knocked him on his ass. He still had bruises in the shape of her boots.

Then he had waited for her to show up at the crypt. He had quietly wished her luck after she left, fear for her gripping his heart. He had gone to the Bronze, listening to the battle within, ready to run in at the slightest indication that Buffy might be losing. But the most anxiety he'd had was the fact his little sister had befriended the Slayer and wanted to fight at her side.

But what had left him the most unsettled had occurred in his Psych class earlier in the day. The TA had held him back after class had ended, and introduced himself. Riley Finn had offered to help him catch up from the few classes he had missed this semester and had extended him an invite to a few frat parties. The TA's sincerity seemed genuine, but something about him seemed off. Something within Angel screamed "Enemy" and told him to run.

He shook his head, trying to get rid of his paranoia. Then his mind wandered back to his dream a few nights ago. He had a feeling that it was a warning. Danger was coming on the heels of the Slayer, and he knew it would be a battle they might not win.

 

* * *

 

The demon Kahl peeked out the door, then sprinted down the gangplank onto the docks, a hand clutched to the treasure he had strapped to his back.

'The days of the Master are at an end. And this sword is the key to my new empire.'

The fog swirled as the demon slunk off into the night, mentally preparing to summon an ancient Egyptian Priest.

 


	6. Past is Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some bonding goes on...

 

Chapter 6: Past is Prologue

 

Willow knocked on Angel's door, then pushed it open.

He looked up from his computer and turned around. "Hey. What's up?"

She hugged her chest and sat down on his bed. "Are you avoiding me?"

"What?" He got up from his chair and sat down next to her. "Why would you think that?"

"Because every time I come home with Buffy, you disappear. So are you avoiding me, or her? I mean, I know you don't like Xander, but Buffy's really cool. She's the … nicest person I've ever met." Willow had almost said that Buffy was the Slayer. She looked scared and covered her mouth.

Angel gave her a look. "I know, Will."

"Know? Know what? What do you know? I don't know anything!"

"I know Buffy's the Slayer."

"How do you-? Oh! Oh! You're the guy! The guy who's the guy! Mr. Mystery Guy!" She smacked his arm. "Why didn't you tell me? And how did you find out? And why didn't you-" He covered her mouth with his hand.

"I've known for a few months. She's the reason I moved back. I was approached by this guy. Actually he was a demon, but he was a good demon. He told me Buffy would need help. And I didn't tell you because I didn't want to put you in danger. Which is kind of a moot point right now." He took his hand away and grasped her hands. I want you to do something for me. I want you to be careful. I'm not going to try and talk you out of helping Buffy. But I want you to take every precaution. Ok?"

She nodded. "Ok. If you do something for me."

"What?"

"Meet Buffy's Watcher. He's really smart. And he might know how come you're so weird." She smiled.

"Oh, I'm weird? I'm not the one who hacked the FBI when I was 13."

"And I'm not the one who beat up a kindergartener."

"He was picking on you. What did you expect me to do? And I only gave him a swirly."

"And almost got your butt kicked by his big sister."

"Hey, I could have taken her, but I don't hit girls." He put his arm around her. "But I do tickle 'em!"

She shrieked as he started tickling her, squirming to get away, but she held little hope.

 

* * *

 

Buffy pulled a piece of grass out of her hair. She grimaced and flicked it away. Then she dusted off the undead residue that was the result of slaying from her coat. She then looked up, an annoyed expression on her face. "I have a question. Are you stalking me because you're a method actor and you're auditioning for a part in the remake of that Sting stalker song music video or is it just for your own amusement?"

Angel stepped out of the shadows, hands in his pockets. "You're not happy to see me."

"Any reason I should be? Cuz, usually you're coming by with some doom and gloom message, and I really don't feel like dealing with it right now." She turned and started to walk away.

"Wait."

She stopped and turned back, arms crossed. "What?"

"I need to talk to you about your friend Willow Rosenburg."

"How the hell do you know about Willow?"

"Because, she's my little sister."

"What? I'm sorry. I meant, what!?"

"My full name is Angel Liam Rosenburg. Willow's my sister."

"Wow." She leaned against a tombstone. "That explains how she accepted all this so quickly. She already knew.'

"No, she didn't. I never told her about Sunnydale."

"How long have you known?"

"Freshman year, high school. A vampire killed my girlfriend. I started investigating, and found out about all the 'PCP gangs' and 'neck ruptures.' I started researching the town and found about the Hellmouth. I made sure to protect Willow without telling her what was going on."

"You fought vampires?"

He leaned next her on the same tombstone. "I'm not exactly the poster boy for normal. When I was in junior high, Willow was like 4 or 5. She walked out into the street chasing a ball. A car came speeding down the street. I ran to grab her and I got hit by the car. I walked away unharmed. The car hit me at 40 mph. When the vampire killed my girlfriend, it knocked me out, but the doctor said it should have killed me. I don't know why I'm different, but I am. So don't think you're the only one who has to deal with being different. At least you got the luxury of being normal first. I was born like this."

"What about Willow?"

"She's normal. Her parents adopted me about 9 years before she was born. They'd been told they couldn't have children. So when Willow came along, she was a miracle."

"Your parents never noticed anything?"

"They have to be around to notice things. They spend more time out of state than an airline pilot. When they are home, we might catch a glimpse of them in passing. I can't remember the last holiday they were at the house. Willow and I practically raised ourselves. Our babysitters know us better than they do."

"It's tough. Dealing with parents that don't understand." She stood up and moved to stand in front of him. "Do you know who your parents are?"

He shook his head. "There's no record of my actual adoption, and my parents won't talk about it. All they said was it was through a private organization."

"Why don't you come by the library of the high school and talk to Giles? He could probably help."

"I'm not really interested in looking for my birth parents. I just want to know why I am the way I am." She gave him a look. "I'll stop by tomorrow."

She nodded. Then she smiled. "So does Xander know that you're double-oh Angel?"

He smiled. "Nope."

They shared a look and grin of pure evil.

 

* * *

 

Julian Giles placed the phone back on the cradle. He felt an icy shiver of dread. He stood up and walked over to the fire place. He stood and looked longingly at the painted portrait of his parents as the light from the flames flickered on their faces, almost giving them a lively quality. He missed them, their wit and wisdom.

He turned back and walked to the phone, dialing a long unused phone number and a name he hadn't spoken since he was 15.

" Ardeth Bay? This is Alex O'Connell. The books are missing."

 


	7. Chapter 7: Relevations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connections start to come together...

Chapter 7: Revelations

 

            The next day after classes, Angel found himself walking the halls of Sunnydale High, with Willow acting both as tour guide and warden.

            “I still don’t think that this is a good idea.”

            “Uh-uh, buster.  You promised you’d talk to Giles.  Besides, he usually knows about all the oogie-boogie stuff that goes on around town.  Oh look, here we are.”  She pushed open the door and pulled Angel in behind her, a vice grip on his hand.

            Both Giles and Xander looked to the door at their entrance, stopping their conversation.  “What’s he doing here?” Xander asked, with not a little hostility.

            Willow pulled Angel over to the table where they were sitting.  “I wanted Giles to meet the mysterious guy who’s been helping Buffy.”  Xander looked like he’d been hit with a ton of bricks.  “Giles, I want you to meet my brother, Angel.”

            Giles felt a chill go down his spine.  There was almost a sense of the world holding its breath.  ‘It couldn’t be.’  But he was the right age to be the child he had brought to Sunnydale.  And there was only one Rosenburg family.

            Giles grasped Angel’s hand and shook it.  “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.  How did you get entangled in  the supernatural?”

            “A vampire attack.  I survived.  Then recently, I was approached by a balance demon named Whistler.  He said I was special and told me about Slayers.  Specifically Buffy.  He said she would be unlike any other Chosen One before her, but she would need help.  Other than that, he didn’t say anything about how or why I’m different.  Willow-“ she elbowed him, “and I were wondering if you might know anything about it.”

            “You were adopted, were you not?”

            “Yes.  How did you know?”

            “Because I was the one who brought you to Sunnydale, and handed you over to the Rosenburgs.”

            “The Watcher’s Council arranged Angel’s adoption?  Why?” Willow asked.

            Giles was about to answer when Buffy burst into the library at a run.  “Houston, we have a problem.”

 

* * *

 

            “It was like all the moisture had been sucked out of his body.  And he wasn’t alone.  There were two other bodies.  And I went by Willy’s.  Somebody took out the Master and his posse.  And whoever did it has taken up residence.”

            Everyone was sitting around the table.  Buffy was describing her discovery during patrol.

            Giles moved from where he was, leaning against the banister, arms crossed, and went to his office.  He reemerged with a book.  “There was an instance of this in Egypt.  An ancient Egyptian priest named Imhotep was condemned to the curse of the Hom Dai.  He was inadvertently summoned and brought with him the biblical plagues.  He was defeated, summoned again 9 years later, and defeated once more.  The Council has the full account-”

            “Hamunaptra,” Angel interrupted Giles with the name.

            “What?”  Giles looked questioningly at Angel.

            “Hamunaptra.  It’s the name of the city of the dead, where Imhotep was defeated the first time.  He was trying to resurrect-”

            “Anck-su-namun,” Buffy interrupted Angel this time.  “Will, I need you to look up Rick O’Connell.”

            Willow jumped out of her chair and sat down in the chair in front of the computer.  She started typing and said, Can you give me more clues because there about a million Rick O’Connells.”

            “Exclude all names after 1940, and look for military background,” Angel put in.  “If you can get pictures, it’d help.”

            “There.”  Buffy pointed at the screen.  “That’s him, and her, too.”

            Giles looked at the screen and paled.  “That’s not possible.”

            “Why not?” Buffy asked.

            “Because those are my grandparents.”

            “Indeed they are, Rupert,” a new voice said from the entrance doors.  The group looked at the new arrival.

            “Father, what are you doing in Sunnydale?”

            “Imhotep has risen again.  And he isn’t the only threat on the horizon.”

 

* * *

 

            Riley Finn lay in a deep slumber, dreaming of ancient times, other lives, and something that had lain dormant in his soul, stirred.

 


	8. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations and connections...

Chapter 8: The Chain

 

"There is much to tell and little time. To start with, Rupert, that picture  _is_  of your grandparents.

"But how? Why?" Giles asked his father.

"You know of a couple accounts of our family, but there was information that was held back for reasons I will explain.

"As you now know, Guinevere Giles was once called Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell. She was also the reincarnated Egyptian princess Nefertiri. You know of the murder of the Pharaoh Seti I, but not the events that transpired after that.

"After Imhotep was cursed with the Hum-Di, Nefertiri was given the task of ruling Egypt. But one of Seti's advisors was determined to take the throne and marry Nefertiri. In fact, he became insanely obsessed, thinking himself to be in love with her. He was so obsessed that he paid a sorcerer to cast a spell upon her and himself, so that during every incarnation in which she was born, so would he, so that he may woo her in every life. He began stalking her, killing anyone who he thought might compete with him for her affections.

"It even came to the point where he tried to force himself upon her. Luckily one of the Medjai guards heard the ruckus and stopped him in time. He was executed, and Nefertiri reigned to the end of her days."

"Then she was reincarnated into your mother," Angel put in.

"That was her more recent incarnation, but yes. An-ket, the advisor, was reincarnated as well. This time as a lord, who had funded a dig that my mother ended up working on. He tried to seduce her, and when that failed, he kidnapped her. Not a new occurrence for my mother." He gave a wry smile.

"But I digress. My father and I had also been working on the dig. A sort of family vacation. Father and I caught up with them, before the lord could get her out of the country, and just in time to hear him explain his plan. We ambushed him, knocked him out and rescued my mother. He followed us, and was severely injured in a car crash. He lay in a coma for years until his family pulled the plug.

"By that time the Watcher's Council had made several offers of employment to my parents, and they finally said. We changed our name, and moved to another location. The coven associated with the Council cloaked the aural signature of my mother, so An-ket wouldn't find her unless he was in a close proximity."

"Why not completely cloak her?" Willow asked.

"Because that would have meant imprisoning her soul in her body forever, even after her body was no more than dust. It would be an existence worse than any Hell dimension. Besides, reincarnation is a natural cycle. To interfere with it would destroy future incarnations, disrupting the universe and unraveling the very fabric of reality."

"Let's hear it for the circle of life," Xander quipped, and chuckled nervously.

Buffy gave him a look, and then turned back to Giles's father. "That's all well and good, but it doesn't explain why you're here, telling us all of this."

Alex sighed. "Because you, my dear, are the current incarnation of Nefertiri."

Buffy blinked.

"Oh."

 

* * *

 

 

Imhotep sat on the ground, legs crossed, meditating, the sound of dripping water naught but white noise, the cavern otherwise silent. He thought of his previous resurrections, the betrayal by Anck-su-namun. The world would pay for its wrongs against him. He sensed the Hellmouth nearby, opened his eyes, and smiled.


	9. Chapter 9: Lineage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanations, revelations, visions, plotting. 
> 
> The usual on the Hellmouth.
> 
> **
> 
> There's only so many times I can apologize for lack of updates, but moving twice in three months is a little hectic, plus working.
> 
> I'm trying to do better.

 

Chapter 9: Lineage

 

            “Really?” Willow asked.  “How can you be sure?  Because you have to be sure.  I mean, of course you’re sure, but are you sure you’re sure?  I mean surely-” Angel covered her mouth with his hand and gave her a look.  He took his hand away.  She shrugged sheepishly.  “Sorry.”

            He smiled, shook his head and turned back to Alex O’Connell/Julian Giles.  “What kind of proof do you have?”

            Alex pulled a wooden box out of his pocket.  He placed it on the table in front of Buffy.  “Before my mother passed, the coven charged a crystal that is attuned to the mystical signature of the soul of Nefertiri.”  He opened the box and the crystal within began to glow.  Seemingly, with no will of her own, Buffy reached over and picked up the crystal out of the box.  As soon as her fingers touched, she was hit with a series of visions, sights and sounds of places she had never been, eras in which she only knew about in history, people who were strangers to her but felt familiar.

            She heard her friends calling her form a distance.  Then she felt someone touch her hand, consequently graze the crystal, and Angel suddenly appeared.  They saw a woman, who Buffy assumed was Nefertiri, fending off an attacker, when her assailant pinned her.  Another man burst through the door and raced to her, rage in his eyes.  He grabbed the attacker and tossed him into the group of guards that had come in behind him.  The Medjai guard put his arms around her and picked her up.  He shouted commands and the attacker was dragged away.  He put her feet down and let her stand on her own, but kept his arms around her.  He brought a hand up and stroked her cheek.  He asked her a question and she nodded, placing her hand on top of his.  Then the scene shifted.

 

* * *

 

            A young man dashed past rusted armor and ancient coats of arms, dusty tomes filled with tongues long silenced and paintings depicting worlds only seen in nightmares.  He turned right down a similar hallway, and stopped short in front of a door.  He checked his appearance and straightened his shirt, tightened his tie, and knocked on the door.  He was called to enter, and as he pushed, the plaque on the door glinted, quickly and faintly illuminating the name ‘Quentin Travers’ as the door opened.

            Travers stood behind his desk.  “Burning the midnight oils, Pryce?”

            The young Watcher ducked his head.  “Yes, quite.”  He sheepishly adjusted his glasses.  “Sir, I have reason to believe that the vampires, Connor and Darla, are headed for the United States.  Which, if I may be so bold, I find utterly disturbing, considering the current situation at the Hellmouth in California.”

“Quite right, Wesley.  Contact Gwendolyn Post.  Have her speak to the coven.  I want you to gather all the references we have concerning Connor and Darla.  I will contact Mr. Giles with this…complication.”  Wesley Wyndam-Pryce turned and left, closing the door behind him.  Travers pulled out a drawer of his desk and took out an envelope that had yellowed with age.  He removed the letter within, glancing over the contents, though he knew it verbatim. 

“We should have destroyed you 26 years ago.”

 

* * *

 

            Jenny Calendar was startled out of her reverie, as she sat with her computer on the coffee table in front of her.  The knocking came again.  She stood up and walked over to the door.  She peeked through the peephole, turned the locks, and opened the door.  “Grandfather, what are you doing here?  Is everything okay?”

            Ardeth Bay stepped out of the shadows and said, “Take me to the Watcher Rupert Giles.  I need to speak with his father.”

 

* * *

 

            Buffy and Angel found themselves looking in on a different scene from the last one.  They were in a warehouse, indicating a more modern time.

            A dark-haired woman, gagged and hands tied behind her back, struggled against her captor, twisting and turning to break his hold on her arm, but his grip remained steady.  She got lucky and delivered a kick to his kneecap, making him collapse to a kneeling position, forcing him to finally let her go.  She then snapped her leg and kicked him in the face, adding a broken nose to his injuries, making him fall backwards and hit his head on the cement.  He rolled into the fetal position, clutching his head.  The woman took off running as best she could, frantically searching for anything sharp enough to cut her bonds.  Her captor managed to regain his footing, one hand still cradling his head.  He started after her, limping heavily, but determined to catch his quarry.

            The woman had stopped, finding a hatchet on a table, bracing it in order to cut the ropes around her wrists.  She kept glancing behind her, trying to see the progress that she had made while keeping track of her captor’s advancing form.  She started to cut more frantically, unsuccessfully avoiding slicing her own skin on the blade’s edge as her enemy moved closer.

            Abruptly, he was driven off his path by gunfire from an overhead advantage point.  The woman felt hands on hers, and she turned to try to hold off her would-be assailant.  She relaxed when she saw the man’s face, turning back to give him access to her bonds.  She posed a question as soon as her hands had been freed, allowing her to remove her gag.  The man answered and grabbed her hand, kissed it, and pulled her towards the exit.  Her kidnapper, no longer held at bay by gunfire, gave chase, albeit slowly.

 

* * *

 

            Buffy felt herself being released back to the present.  The only thing unchanged was her hand clutched in Angel’s, and she didn’t particularly want to let it go.

            “Interesting. It would seem that there is another soul that the crystal seeks out,” Alex commented.  “Tell me, what did you see?”

            Angel swallowed, his head still spinning from the transition back.  “The attack on Nefertiri.  The guard that protected her.  They seemed…affectionate,” he assessed uncomfortably.  “Then we saw your mom’s rescue from that guy.”

            “Lord Atherton.”

            “Yeah, him.”

            “Are you saying that Angel is the host for your dad’s reincarnated spirit?” Willow concluded.

            “Yes, I believe he is.”

            Angel had been oblivious to the fact that he was still holding Buffy’s hand, and that he had been stroking his thumb gently on the back of it till that point, when Buffy’s hand twitched in his.  “Your father was the guard too, wasn’t he?  He was the Medjai that protected her.”

            “Yes, he was.  Unlike the obsessed advisor, my father’s reincarnations that surround my mother are part of the natural state.  Family and friends have a tendency to group together throughout time, shifting roles.  People who are lovers in one life may be siblings in the next, or parent and offspring.”

            “Wow, that takes the whole ‘six degrees’ to a ridiculous level,” Buffy said.  “What happened to your parents?  We didn’t get to see that.”

            “It was a home invasion gone wrong.  Robbers broke in during the night, and somehow set their London townhouse on fire,” Giles explained, saddened by thoughts of his lost grandparents.  He looked at his father, who had turned his face away.  “Father?”

            Alex shifted uncomfortably, refusing to look at his son.  “That was the official story that I and a friend of the family gave to the Council.  I thought it best, given the situation at the time.”

            “There was no situation.  What are you…” Giles trailed off as he followed his father’s glances, which pointed at Angel.  Giles slumped in his chair, put his hand on his mouth, removed it and asked, “I had just gotten back, hadn’t I?”

            “Gotten back from what, Giles?” Buffy asked, apprehensive of the answer.  Something in her gut told her it would be something that would have a huge impact.

            “He had just returned from delivering Angel to his adoptive parents,” Alex answered for his son as he absorbed the news of what really happened to his grandparents.  “Their house was attacked by a pair of vampires.  Vampires that made up half of the Scourge of Europe.  They are the most vicious and destructive vampires of our age.  Someone had leaked information to them that something that had been stolen from them was in my parents’ possession, which was false.  They burned the house with my parents still within when they found out.”

            “What does that have to do with Giles?” Buffy questioned.

            “The vampires, Connor and Darla, were seeking something impossible, something that exists against all odds.  Something they cherished greatly.  They were seeking their child.”

            “Child?  As in a baby?” Aside from the Watchers, everyone shared Buffy’s confusion.

            “Yes, an infant son.”

            “But vamps can’t have kids!”

            “You are correct, my dear.  They cannot.  And yet, Darla gave birth to a son.  A human son.  Who was then stolen by a messenger from the Powers that Be and delivered to the Watcher’s Council for protection.  After which he was delivered to an adoptive family residing here in Sunnydale, by a young Watcher by the name of Rupert Giles.”

            Angel stood up.  He ran his hand through his hair, pacing back and forth a few times.  He stopped and turned to face Giles and his father.  “You’re telling me that I’m the human son of the two worst vampires in history, that I shouldn’t even exist.  How is that even possible?”

            “It shouldn’t be.  It isn’t.  And yet here you stand before us.  I’d wager that destiny reworked the fabric of reality itself, making your existence possible, in order to position you where you were most needed.”

            “I’m just a pawn.  Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

            “As unfortunate as it is to say, we are all pawns in the grand design, and the gods alone know where we stand in the game of life.”

            Angel sat back down in his chair, having lost all energy from the revelations about his origins.  “So what am I really?  Being born from two vampires doesn’t make me human.”

            “But you are human.  Completely human, in fact.  You just happen to have something extra infused.”

            Giles decided that it was up to him to intervene, to calm down Angel, though it meant revealing a truth rarely divulged to Slayers.  He put a hand on his father’s shoulder, who looked up and recognized the look on his son’s face, vacated his seat, having been positioned by Angel since his arrival.  Giles motioned Buffy to come closer, and Willow and Xander followed, moving their chairs to form a circle with his.

            Alex disappeared into his son’s office, emerging a short time later with a book, which he handed to Giles, who held up the book.  It was leather bound, with no title or label, nothing to indicate its contents, or its importance.

            “Angel, what do you know of the origins of the vampire?” Giles asked.

            Angel shook his head, opening his mouth to acknowledge his ignorance, when Buffy raised her hand, waving it frantically to announce her request to answer.  “Ooh, ooh!  Pick me!  I actually know this one!” 

Giles rolled his eyes, motioning her to continue.  “When the last pure demon was leaving this dimension, it mixed its blood with a human, making the first vampire.”  Her Watcher was impressed, and said so.  The Slayer shrugged.  “What? I do actually pay attention when you tell me stuff.  But what does the first vampire have to do with the first Slayer?  Aside from the obvious, of course.”

“The process by which the First Slayer was created is similar to the creation of the first vampire.”  Giles opened the book to a specific page, and then handed it to Buffy and Angel to share, with Xander and Willow leaning over them.  As they took in the illustration before them, Giles began his tale.

 


End file.
